The next night at the bar, I made sure everyone who walked through the door knew about the dangers associated with Lucia’s temple. I didn’t go into detail since there wasn’t much to go around, but I made sure they knew the temple was sucking people’s brains out. Not entirely accurate, but it was enough for the tweeners.

Of course, I only had a handful of customers throughout the night. My gut clenched as I realized some of them were probably at the temple while others were home or out on dates. Which concerned me almost as much as the people being at the temple. I couldn’t be sure how much control Lucia had over this tantric thing. If tweens who’d never been to the temple were getting it on, how would she tap into them?

I was missing something and I knew it, but giving them a warning was the best I could do at the moment. It wasn’t like I could tell everyone to keep it in their pants until I figured things out.

I stood behind the bar with Bergamot, fiddling with the towel I used to wipe down the bar. Fewer than a dozen tweens were in the bar tonight and I had shitty expectations for the rest of the week. To top it off, Jezze hadn’t shown up for her shift.

Again.

Under different circumstances, I wouldn’t be mad. I mean, it was slow enough that I didn’t really need her help. It wasn’t like she’d do anything but stand around and do nothing anyway.

What worried me was that she might be at the temple. I’d called Momma R earlier and relayed everything Sam and I discovered. She’d promise to talk to Jezze about things, but I didn’t think it’d made any difference. If Momma R had gotten through to my best friend, she would have been here by now.

“What if I jerk off?”

I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts with the unexpected question. “Dude. What? Eww.”

Ronum looked up from his beer, one hand scratching at the hairy wart on the underside of his chin with grime covered fingernails. “What if I just rub one out? Will that still feed this goddess her tan… tru… her fuck magic?”

“I…” I blinked hard and fought to push away the mental images that threatened to overrun my mind. I did not need the mental image of Ronum tugging on his dick. Or doing anything sexytimes related for that matter. I actually threw up a little bit in my mouth. “I don’t know, Ronum. Do I look like an expert?”

He held out his hands. “Shit, Caith. I’m just trying to help.”

I leaned one hand on the bar, disbelief filling me. “Trying. To. Help?”

The mental picture of Ronum tugging on his balls tried to push forward—again—and I kicked it back.

“Just trying to do my part.” He shrugged. “If keeping it in my pants for a few days will help you fuck over this goddess bitch, I can do that. Yeah?”

I rubbed a hand down my face, swallowing my frustrated groan. “Sure thing, Ronum. You do that.”

“Happy to help.” He flashed me a wide grin, his green, rotted teeth fully visible. He turned his attention back to his beer, and I wondered if I could take a break.

I needed to get in the back and figure out how to bleach my brain. All of it. All of the bleaching and all of my brain.

Before I even made it behind the curtain, I was interrupted by my ringing cell phone. I pulled it out and checked the screen, rolling my eyes over the drama that would soon ensue. I was almost tempted not to answer the call, but it was Jezze. Even if she annoyed the fuck out of me, she was my best friend. I didn’t have to like her very much to love her.

I answered the phone but spoke even before Jezze could say a word. “Whatever your excuse is, I don’t want to hear it. Jezze, this is the third night in the last week that— “

“Caith,” her voice trembled, a strained sound that made me think she was crying. “Caith, I need your help.”

If I prayed to On High, I’d ask him for patience. But I didn’t, so I had to work with what little I had. “Did your new boyfriend dump you?”

That was not patience. Huh. Maybe I didn’t have any at all. I leaned against the bar with a sigh. When Jezebeth went through a breakup, she acted like it was the end of the world. As someone who nearly (once or twice) caused the end of the world and also fought to save the world (more than once or twice), I had very little compassion.

“Caith, I need help.” A tinge of panic laced her words. “I think I’m in trouble.”

More wobbling with a hint of hysteria toward the end there.

I bent quickly, hand going for the titanium bat I kept under the bar. “What kind of trouble?”

“I’m at the temple and I can’t find Greg and— “

“Greg?”

“My boyfriend. I think he’s— “

A muffled shout was immediately followed by a loud clatter, as if Jezze had dropped her phone.

“Jezze? Are you there? Jezebeth?” I wasn’t going to let panic intrude on my thoughts. “Jezebeth Deja Renard I will set fire to your favorite dress if you don’t answer me.”

It was a stupid threat, so very out of place with current events, but it seemed I was letting panic intrude. “Jezze?”

I swallowed hard and pulled the phone from my ear to stare at the screen, to see that the call had been disconnected.

“Fuck.” I spat the word.

My blood burned, hellfire surging with my distress. Things had been weird in my body, parts of me stronger than others, and my reactions to events were stronger than they’d ever been. Fire came quickly. My shift was nearly instantaneous. My reaction time had more than halved. All things that would help me deal with the mess my town had become.

This was not a bat to the balls situation. I reached for the weapons I’d really need. I slipped my jacket on, the familiar weight of my daggers pulling on my shoulders. My sword was next, the perfectly balanced length of metal sharpened and honed to a razor thin edge.

“Berg! Watch the bar!”

“Is Jezze okay?” Berg called out after me, his voice booming in the quiet.

I kicked the bar door open, boot heel slamming into the latch. “She fucking better be.”

I strode toward my car, the darkness not quite so dark due to the glaring lights of the surrounding businesses. Downtown Orlando was busy and the streets would be filled with cars and drunk partygoers at this time of night. The parks were shutting down while nightlife was picking up. Fuck.

I paused at the edge of the Hell’s Chapel parking lot, slinking into the darkest shadows, and dialed up Sam on my phone. I launched into my demand the second he picked up. “Trouble at Lucia’s temple.”

I ended the call before he could ask for details. Details I didn’t have time to explain and I knew he was already on his way regardless.

I strapped the sword to my back, freeing my hands. And then…

Then I ran. I bolted for a darkened alley, stride lengthening from one step to the next while the shadows swirled around me. They wrapped around my arms and legs, embracing me in the darkness. I took one step, then two, and then I leapt through the air. I flew across the ground, arms and legs vanishing to be replaced by heavy muscles and jet-black paws. My inner wolf howled its triumph, glorying in its freedom. The animal was just as annoyed with Jezze as my human mind, but she was still ours.

No one touched what was ours.

My clothes and weapons faded from sight, my twisted heritage giving me the ability to save my clothes and not show up at places naked. If I remembered to tap into that part of myself.

I didn’t always remember.

I leapt from shadow to shadow, slipping through darkened alleys, under bridges, and through the backyards of sleeping humans. I was the night hunter, the death stalker, the puppy with teeth that ached to sink into flesh.

Okay, overly dramatic much, Caith? Now I was talking to myself in third person.

Within minutes I was at the temple, the raw, growling, feral part of me aching to burst through the door in wolf form. I’d tear people to pieces, gnaw on their flesh, and spill their blood until they told me where to find Jezze.

But, like it or not, I couldn’t do that. The human part of my mind reminded me there were innocents inside. I couldn’t kill them. They were victims just as much as Jezze.

That wouldn’t stop me from enjoying knocking a few heads together to get what I wanted.

I slipped into a dark shadow cast by the building, letting it envelope my midnight fur. Between one step and the next, the darkness parted and my human form strode free of the black. The wolf howled at being suppressed, wanting to be released again, and I let her simmer just beneath the surface so she was ready to be unleashed if needed.

But I had to retain control.

For now.

A soft whisper and gentle breeze stroked the back of my neck, and then Sam was alongside me, his strides matching mine. A hint of sulfur clung to him along with the scent of fresh rain—both parts of his nature helping him get to me so quickly.

Together we burst through the temple’s double doors, the heel of my boot coupled with a burst of hellfire sending the panels swinging inward. The crowd froze in place, all talk ending at our appearance, and a man holding informational pamphlets stepped in front of me.

Not smart.

I was gentle-ish as I pushed him aside, those page scattering to the floor.

“Where’s Jezze?” I bellowed the word, fingers tingling and gums aching with the need to shift—to hunt her scent.

But none of the parishioners spoke, all of them staring at me with their jaws hanging open.

A man in a security guard uniform pushed through the crowd, holding a hand up to stop me. “Ma’am, you can’t bust in here like this. I ‘m going to have to ask you to leave.”

I wasn’t going to ask him what the hell a religious temple needed with a security guard.

Instead, I went into motion the moment he got close enough for me to touch. Or, rather, grab. I wrapped my fingers around his thumb and twisted, jerking his arm first down and then curling it behind him until I had it pressed in between his shoulder blades. I imagined his tendons and muscles screaming about the sudden stretch, the pressure I put against his joints. The pressure was just short of enough to break his pretty human body and I reveled in the pain that surrounded him. It felt good to hurt him, to have an outlet for this growing anger and rage that filled my blood.

“Okay.” I kept my tone conversational and light. If I let my soul get caught up in imagining all of the bloody things I could do to him, I’d end up with a dead human. Not a good thing since I had a job to do. Find Jezze and then kill things. “Let’s try this again.” I whipped out my phone, ignoring the whimpers from my captive and the low murmurs that came from the others. I reached around the guy and showed him a picture of Jezebeth. “This girl. She’s been here before. She’s here now. Tell me where?”

The guard stammered, his attention on the photo while he shook his head. “I-I-I don’t know. I swear. Ow!”

The “ow” was followed by a pop. I may have broken something and I waited for the guilt to rear its ugly head. Nope, no guilt. Yay!

I kept my hold on the guard and turned the phone to show the crowd. Some looked like they could barely focus—their eyes glazed over. It seemed like only the fear from my sudden entrance had snapped them into something close to normal consciousness.

“One of you knows where she is.” I let my voice boom through the room, the high ceilings causing my voice to echo in the space. “Talk! Now.”

A young man in loose, flowing temple robes slowly raised his hand. “I… I…”

I released the guard, shoving him to the ground and ignoring the way he curled up in a ball while clutching his injured thumb. Baby.

I stalked to the stammering young man and fisted the front of his robes, lifting and pulling him closer. It was close, but I stopped just short of baring my fangs. “You-you-you what?”

He stammered a bit more before raising a trembling hand. He pointed to a door on my left. “I think she’s in the private worship rooms b-b-back there.”

I released him, not caring where he landed, and turned toward the door. Sam’s heat bathed my back, my mate there to support me if I needed him. Physically? Not yet. Emotionally?

Who knew what I’d find and if I would be able to control myself when I did.

We headed through the archway, walking down the hall past a series of doors. Moans and groans came from behind those numbered panels, sounds of sex filling the air, and I curled my lip. I didn’t worship anyone but even I knew fucking didn’t happen in church. I drew in a deep breath and then gagged at the musky scents filling the space. I pushed past the stank of sweating bodies and sought the familiar flavors of my best friend.

Then… it was there. Faint, hardly discernable. But there.

Jezebeth.

I stalked forward, following the barely-there hint of Jezze that lured me on. I followed that whisper of aroma, determination in every single stomping step. Though the farther I went, the stranger I felt. It was in the air, in my lungs, in my blood. Like an aphrodisiac that seeped into me, filling me with… urges. I glanced at Sam, wondering if it was just me. A quick scan of his body, the bulge at the juncture of his thighs, told me he was definitely feeling the effects.

“Keep your head on your shoulders, not in your pants.” I shook my head, forcing the need away. My inner wolf panted and yowled, wanting to be unleased.

Desperate to be taken.

But I couldn’t give her what she needed. Especially not in the middle of some fucked up temple.

We strode past a few more people, dazed expressions on their faces, until we got to the door where Jezze’s scent stood out the strongest. I tried the knob, a hint of hellfire coating my palm while I attempted to turn the handle. Except it was locked. I growled and slammed my fist against the door, ready to pummel the wood panel to kindling.

An arm shot out, a stranger’s hand on my wrist. I snarled, yanking free of his hold. One of the men with glazed-over eyes stood nearby, his stare still unfocused. “You can’t go in there,” he whispered. “They’re worshiping.”

“Is that what the kids call it nowadays?” I drawled.

He gave me a confused frown.

I gave him a fist to the face.

He collapsed to the ugly carpet, limp and no longer a problem. Turning back to the door, I threw my shoulder into it. The wood cracked and gave way, splintering into hunks of kindling. I shoved aside what still clung to the frame and stepped into the room.

Jezze was there, half-dressed, lying on a bed covered in silky sheets. She was unconscious, unmoving. The rise and fall of her chest was the only indication she still lived. She lay there, tangled in knotted sheets as if she’d been “worshipping” not long ago.

And no hint of her boyfriend in sight.

Had she… My stomach rose and I pressed a hand to my middle. I pushed aside the nausea and instead focused on my rage. I let it bubble and boil inside me, the anger that she was in this situation, that Lucia had somehow hurt Jezze.

Retribution was easier to focus on than what might have happened to my best friend while I’d been standing on my bitch tower and shouting about how right I was about the temple.

“Sam,” I rasped, unable to get my feet to move.

My mate bolted forward, careful as he wrapped the sheets around Jezze and then lifted her into his arms. He cradled her like he typically cuddled Bry. As if Jezze was precious—helpless. At the moment, she was both and that knowledge stoked the fires in my heart.

We turned toward the door. My control withered down to a thread the longer we stayed in the temple.

A preacher stood there, two beefy guys standing sentry behind him. The minister pressed his palms together in front of him. “I’m sorry.” His expression was placid though I could see—and scent—his fear. Sweat peppered the man’s brow, a droplet sliding down his cheek. “It seems there’s been some sort of misunderstanding.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured and reached behind me, wrapping my fingers around the hilt of my blade. I slowly slipped it free, the metal just singing as it caressed its sheath. A small tremor slid through me, the sound reminding me of bloodshed and violence of times past. It teased and taunted the dark parts of me. Those parts growing stronger every moment I stared at the minister. “It seems I don’t give a shit.”

I let the tip of my sword rest on the floor, the polished metal glinting in the room’s low lights. The man’s attention flicked to the blade and then back to me, his face going pale. He took a step back while his goons moved forward. As if that’d frighten me.

“I’m afraid it’s against temple policy to remove anyone from worship rooms until they are finished.” He gestured at Jezze. “This woman is in the middle of a spiritual journey. I can’t let you interrupt that.”

“A spiritual journey?” I spat on the floor, heat from the fires of hell surging through my arms, and my blade glowed with the unquenchable heat. “Is that what you call this?” I tightened my grip, the sight of Jezze on the bed behind me forever burned into my brain. “My friend has been violated.”

I was ready to violate them all with my sword in return.

The man frowned and shook his head. “Not at all. She came to us of her own free will. She and her young man.”

“Uh-huh.” I nodded, clenching and loosening my fingers around my sword’s hilt. “Where’d he get off to?”

I looked around, taking note that there was no other door in the space.

“He’s under our care.” The preacher straightened his spine and gestured to Jezze. “And so is she. Which is why I must insist your return her to the bed so that she may complete her journey. I assure you, she’ll wake up as soon as— “

“Fuck you.” I raised my blade, the silver length pulsing with tendrils of black and gold. Killing innocents wasn’t generally my thing. (Anymore, but we don’t talk about the past.) No, slicing and dicing for the joy of it was no longer my day-to-day life, but if this guy tried to prevent me from taking my friend out of here, I would turn them into gator food.

Jezze always complained that I didn’t let her take home dem bodies for Francois and his gator girls anymore. Franky-baby, apparently, was pining for one of my fresh kills.

“Out of the way—now—or I move you.” The heat inside me flared, sliding from my pores, and hints of smoke and sulfur filled the air. “I won’t say it again.”

The goons exchanged worried glances, their empty hands and tight expressions telling me more than words ever could. Odds were, the temple had never had to deal with someone like the psycho bitch, sword swinging Princess of Hell before.

The preacher swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing along his throat, and took a step back. He gestured for the other two men to stand aside as well. “Very well. If you insist on threatening violence, you may leave. We are a peaceful temple.”

I snorted. “Peaceful? Right. Sucking people’s bodies dry of psychic energy and life force in order to feed your crazy goddess isn’t violent at all.”

He furrowed his brow. “Ma’am, I assure you, all we do— “

I held up a hand, silencing him. I didn’t need excuses. I needed to be gone. “Right. I’m sure you’re all innocent.” Though, as hard as I tried to hate him, I couldn’t completely blame the priest. It wasn’t as if he knew what was going on. He believed that Jezze was in no danger. Surely his “goddess” wouldn’t harm anyone, right?

Another dupe, fooled by a false deity. And because he believed every word that left his mouth, it made it that much harder to push past the lies and dig into the truth.

No one else challenged us as we strode through the building, and I ignored the dazed humans we passed. Did I want to help them? Sure. But as much as I was all for saving the world, I was going to save Jezebeth first. I was a selfish bitch that way.

I called Papa Al the moment we left the temple, Sam and I traveling on foot for a few blocks so we could put as much distance between us and the temple as possible. I couldn’t exactly carry an unconscious woman on my back as a wolf. Sure, Sam could fly, but I didn’t know what was up with Jezze and her connection to Lucia. I didn’t really want to put a conduit to Lucia in the arms of my gel mate while he was thousands of feet above the Earth and flying through the air.

I was weird like that.

A few pedestrians gave us strange looks, side-eyeing a huge leather-clad man striding down the street holding an unconscious girl wrapped in red sheets. If anyone ever needed proof that the population was going to shit, it was right then and there. No one said a word. Not one.

Papa Al pulled up next to us a few minutes later, shifting his SUV into park while we got Jezze in the vehicle. Bry was tucked in his car seat, securely strapped in, and we put her on the bench seat beside him.

“What’s wrong with Aunt Jezebel?”

Jezebel. I gave Bryony a watery smile and tapped his nose. I’d teased Jezebeth and called her Jezebel around Bry a little too often when he was learning to talk. The name sort of stuck and both Momma R and I thought it was fucking hilarious.

Jezze? Not so much.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetie.” I gave him a soft kiss and stepped back. “She’s just not feeling well. We’re going to take her home and help her get better.”

Once everyone was on board, Papa Al looked at me through the rear view mirror. “Where to?”

His voice was hardly more than a snarl, the sound grating and rough, and I saw more than a hint of fang filling his mouth. Just like Momma R was my surrogate mother, the dads all thought of Jezze as an adopted daughter.

My father’s wolf included.

“Momma R’s.” I couldn’t think of anywhere better for Jezze. “I’m going to call Sorsha and have her meet us there.” I wasn’t sure if Jezze’s state was the same as what happened to Mitchell, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

Not where my best friend’s life was concerned.